For the Love of Aoshi
by Chibi Phoenix
Summary: This story is about Misao's childhood and how she came to fall in love with Aoshi. (CHAPTER SIX UP!)
1. Beginnings

Disclaimer: I don't own Rurouni Kenshin or any of the characters/plot/ect. 

Author's Note: This is the first story that I've posted here. I hope y'all like it! I'm sorry that I leave you hanging……more soon if I get at least one review. 

For the Love of Aoshi

A little girl sat alone in the dead of night, cold raindrops soaking into her skin. She shivered, and tried to pull her knees in tighter for more warmth, but to no avail. She sat alone like this for hours, but refused to cry. Her parents wouldn't want her to cry. After all, they had sacrificed their own lives just weeks before so that she could carry on. 

"I have to be strong," Misao chided herself, "They would've wanted me to be strong, just like them." 

Suddenly, her stomach started to rumble. The noise surprised her so much that she let out a giggle. It did wonders to cheer her up just then; she couldn't remember the last time she'd even so much as smiled since the fire. 

Her thoughts were interrupted by the sound of whispers above her head. It appeared as though there were three men: one on the roof of the government building she was leaning against, the other two still on the ground.

"Hannya, cover the front entrance," ordered the voice from the roof. This man sounded deadly serious and void of emotion. "Beshimi, you take the back entrance."

Neither of the two made an audible reply. They moved into their positions without a sound. Misao got up to investigate. She decided to walk to the front of the building so that she wasn't trapped in the back alleyway with a potentially dangerous man. 

She slowly rose from the ground, trying to be as silent as possible. A chill ran down her spine as her back slid along the frigid and wet cement. As she rose to her full height her weight shifted to her delicate and tender feet, causing them to sink into the mud that had formed because of the downpour. Before moving, she quickly brushed away the clumps of long, messy black hair that had become plastered to her face. 

The silence that hung over the scene was suddenly broken by hoofbeats and the clattering of carriage wheels in the distance. She heard the man on the roof jump down to the ground a moment afterward. This startled her into crouching back down into her previous position. The two men were whispering again, but Misao had to strain to hear. 

"Our information was obviously wrong. The second shift wasn't supposed to arrive for another thirty minutes! If we leave now, we should be safe, though. Let's go through the back alleyway." Stated the commanding voice. 

Misao suspected that they would go around the other side of the building like this "Beshimi" person, and was horrified when they did not. 


	2. Memories

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Chapter two: Memories

This part of the story is a flashback of Misao's earlier childhood. Oh, and I have no idea if evergreen trees, peonies, alfalfa, or any other foliage that I mention grow in Asia, but go with me here. It is a FICTION after all. I tried to make it longer this time- Thanks for all of the beautiful reviews!

A gentle breeze flowed through the clearing, passing over the surface of Misao's face and caressing it softly. She walked a few steps forward, being careful not to upset any of the beautiful flowers that surrounded her. The grass felt warm and soft under her feet, filling her with a sense of peace and contentment. The sun was beginning to set now, so everything was bathed in a brilliant glow that nearly blinded the small child that stood in the middle of it all. 

She drew a deep breath, inhaling the wind that fondled her so tenderly. As she did so, the smell of all of the flowers came flooding into her: here, the delicate scent of grass; there, the smell of wild roses and alfalfa; and here, her favorite of all, the undeniably wonderful scent of evergreen.

The small house she lived in with her parents was nestled back in a rather larger clearing not far from where she now stood, surrounded by the evergreens. The thought of her favorite trees pulled her from her reverie: she was supposed to be gathering firewood. 

She began to walk forward again, more quickly now that she had a set destination in mind. As she walked, she listened to the symphony of the forest, growing ever louder as she progressed into the woods themselves. A definite melody had been established, with a few minor variations, and she began to hum along, bending down every now and then to drop another fallen branch into her basket. 

"Misao! Your father and I were beginning to worry about you, dear. What took you so long?" 

"Sorry, Mommy," replied the three-year-old, with more than a tinge of remorse in her voice, "I got distracted by all the pretty flowers. This one's for you, mommy. It's violet, like your eyes." As she said this, she handed up a delicate looking peony to her mother, who accepted it with a smile. 

"Thank you, sweetie." The tall and slender woman put the flower behind her ear in one long, fluid motion. 

"You're so graceful and pretty, mommy. I wanna be just like you when I grow up!"

Again, her mother smiled at her warmly, grasping her hand to lead her over to the table where dinner was waiting. They positioned themselves across from each other and waited for the third member of the family, Misao's father, to join them. 

"Misao, you did tell Daddy to come inside for dinner, didn't you?" Asked her mother after a few minutes had passed. 

"Oooops, sorry mommy, I forgot! I'll be right back!" 

She ran outside into the night, almost forgetting to put on her sandals before going to relieve her father from his labor. The field where he would be wasn't far from their home, but in order to make it there and back before dinner was cold she would have to go at top speed. Their family, like many others in the area, grew crops for a living. Her father was the only one of the three who worked the field. Misao wasn't old enough to be of much assistence, and her mother had enough to do since she kept up with both Misao and the household duties.

Night was now upon them and the air had cooled down considerably. Misao hugged herself to keep warm, but did not allow the chilly air slow her pace. The field was close now, she should be able to see it in a few more moments. 

It was at that moment that she stopped in her tracks. It was faint, but she could swear she smelled smoke coming from the direction that she was headed. She started to run again, but faster this time, almost as quickly as her heart was beating. As the field finally came into view she started yelling, "Daddy! Daddy! Daddy where are you?" but ceased when she saw the brilliant flames. Her heart stopped for a moment, but started up again when she realized that the fire was under control. A heavy sigh of relief came flooding out of her, and she sank to the ground. 

"Misao?" Came her father's voice, full of surprise, "What are you doing here?"

"I came to tell you that dinner's ready, daddy." It was then, when she finally diverted her eyes from her father, that she noticed another man sitting next to the fire. Her father was tall, to be certain, but was nothing compared to the giant that was situated across from him. "Daddy, who's that? And why did you build a fire way up here?"

"Who's this?" he repeated, seeming to be a bit dazed. "This…..this is my, um, friend. Yes, my friend. From Hiroshima." 

"Oh. Why didn't you bring him home to meet us, daddy? It's getting dark and cold out here. Besides, it's time for dinner. Do you want to come eat with us, daddy's-friend-sama?"

The giant let out a hearty laugh that seemed to shake everything in sight. "Well," he said, in the same hearty tone, "If such a sweet young lady as yourself is going to be there, then how can I refuse?"

The three walked to the small house in silence, listening to the sounds of the night. When they finally reached their destination, Sakura (Misao's mother) was very worried indeed. 

"Where have you……who's that?" She asked, as her family and the stranger walked into the moonlit garden. 

"This is a friend of mine from Hiroshima. He came to have a chat since he was passing up this way. Sorry I didn't come in sooner…..we just got to talking and lost track of time." Replied her father, Seto. 'Misao is too young yet for the truth,' he thought to himself, 'but I'll be able to tell Sakura later.'

"Does your friend have a name?" She replied, as politely as possible. Her eyes ran along the stranger, taking him in. You could tell by just looking at him that this man was a samurai: his movements were swift and precise, his body covered in battle scars, his hands calloused from holding a katana. The clue that made her certain, however, was the look in his eyes. There was something…… else….. there, something that one didn't see every day. They weren't cold, per se, but they were hardened from battle and saddened from watching friends die right alongside you. She knew that look all too well.

The man gave a sweeping bow toward the beautiful woman who stood in the doorway, encompassed in the light that streamed out of the fire inside, and said, "My name is Risho Saito. I'm pleased to make your acquaintence, Miss…..?" 

"Sakura." Replied her mother, bowing slightly. "I assume that you will be joining us for dinner, Risho-san?"

"You presume correctly, Sakura-san. Your lovely young daughter invited me." He replied, with a smile toward Misao. 

With that, the three strode into the house and sat down to eat. Misao took an extra pillow from the closet to sit on so that all four could dine at once. 

"It smells delicious, Sakura-san! I can't wait to dig in."

"Well, Risho-san, you will have to wait just a moment. It is customary in this household to pray before eating." With that all four of them bowed their heads to give thanks for their meal. 

The meal progressed from there in idle chatter, Risho carefully avoiding the subject of who he was or why he was there by complementing Sakura's cooking. Sakura quickly became frustrated and gave up, giving her husband a you're-going-to-tell-me-later-once-Misao-is-in-bed-or-you'll-be-sleeping-outside glare. Seto smiled at her sheepishly in response, nodding his head minutely. 

Once they had all finished eating, Misao cleared the table and took the dirty dishes out to the well to clean. They weren't much- just wooden bowls and utensils- but they were enough. 

'Risho-sama is very nice. I can see why he's friends with daddy- they're both really kind and funny.' Misao thought as she began to clean. Night was now fully upon them and the day creatures were nestled away in sleep. The kingdom of the night now awoke to go about daily business- stalking prey, minding the young, gathering the food that mother nature provided, and building homes for themselves. Having lived here all of her life, Misao knew how to read the forest in all of its glorious mystery. This is where she belonged: out among the animals and the evergreens, totally free, totally happy.

But meanwhile, at the kitchen table, a conversation not so cheerful was taking place……


	3. Flames

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Chapter Three: Flames

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You may have noticed that Risho and Saito(h) have the same last name. That isn't a coincidence: they are brothers (Risho is of my own creation). That doesn't have anything to do with this story though, but I might make another fiction about them if anyone's interested. I'm going to try to have this fiction finished by August 20th because that's when school starts for me. That's not saying that I WILL, only that I'll TRY. Thank you again for all the reviews!

After Misao left the room a silence fell over the three adults, broken only by the occasional crackle of the fire. Shadows danced around the tiny room to the tune of the flames, flaring up and receeding like the tides of the ocean. Sakura, feeling more than a tad impatient to be filled in, decided to initiate the conversation that was in all of their minds: why was Risho here, and who was he really?

She cleared her throat to grab their attention. "Risho-san, it's obvious that you aren't here for a friendly visit. Misao can't hear us now, so I would be most obliged to you if you would please explain yourself." 

"Very perceptive, Sakura-san. You're right- I'm not just here for a friendly visit, although Seto-chan and I are certainly friends. I came here on behalf of the Imperialist army. I……." 

He was cut short by a gasp from Sakura, quickly followed by a very nervous look toward her husband. This was the day she'd been dreading. They'd finally come for him after all of these peaceful years. They'd come to take him away from her again- away to the the blood stained streets of Kyoto –away to risk his life – away from her. 

"Sakura, I know what you're thinking, but I'm not going back. I ran away from the battle once, so that I could be with you, but also because I couldn't stand the killing. I killed so many men back then, and all for what? Fo…" 

"Not for nothing, Seto-chan. You know as well as anyone that you're the best of the best, a match even for the Battosai. The simple fact of the matter is that we're losing, and we will continue to lose unless you help us. We need you, or else…."

Sakura stood up to her full height, even then only a little taller than the sitting giant, and screamed, "I won't let you take him! I won't! I won't!" Realizing that Misao might be able to hear her, she dropped her voice to a pleading whisper, "You don't understand, Risho-san, I need him here. Misao needs him. Misao most of all. She needs her daddy, and I need my husband." 

Seto rose and walked over to her, then wrapped his arms around her to soothe her in his warm embrace. He rubbed his cheek against the top of her head and whispered, "Don't worry, my love, I won't leave you. I couldn't leave you, not even if I tried. My place is here, with you, not on the battlefield. I know how hard it was for you and Misao when I was away, and I don't want to put you through that kind of pain again. I couldn't stand to do that to my daughter, either. She deserves better, as do you. Please don't cry, Sakura. I love you."

Risho let out a sigh. "I know you don't want to fight anymore, Seto-chan. No one really wants to fight, but it's something we have to do. If we give up now, we'll go back to being opressed by the old government. Is that what you want? If you don't help us to fight now, think of how your family will suffer later. Think of how the world was like when you were growing up. Don't you want better for your daughter? Don't you want her to know what peace feels like? Don't _you _want to know what peace feels like?" 

"She does know what peace feels like. Up here, in the mountains, the government can't touch us. We're happy now, Risho. Go outside and smell the air: it doesn' t smell of blood, nor does it reak of sorrow and hatred. It's happy. It's free. That's what my daughter knows, which, by the way, _is_ better than what I knew as a child."

"That's great for you now, but how long do you suppose that will last? You can't stay hidden forever. Besides, yours isn't the only family in Japan. There are others that are suffering and dying. There are mothers now without children or husbands, children without parents, husbands without wives. The only way to end their suffering is to end this war. We have to win it, and you have to help us. So, what do you say?"

"My answer still stands. I have enough blood on my hands."

"You aren't the Seto I knew. Seto-chan would never have been so selfish. Now you're just an old burnt out samurai who's too concerned with himself to help others. Repulsive. I'm leaving now, Seto. The sight of what you've become is making me sick." 

"I'm sorry you feel that way, Risho. Goodbye, old friend, and good luck." Risho just snorted in return as he got up to leave. He walked across the wooden floor, his footsteps making each board creak from his weight. The door was only six feet tall, so he had to stoop to get through it. He shut the door behind him a bit harder than he would have otherwise, and in doing so shook the walls of the cottage slightly. Deciding that it was too late to travel very far, he strode over to the maple tree nearest to the "traitor's" home and leaned up against it to sleep.

His sleep was uneasy, and not just because of the uncomfortable position. He felt almost as though he was being watched. He was right.

After Misao was done with the dishes, she walked back to her home. As she entered into the main room, she saw her parents standing together, staring at the door. Her mother looked relieved and happy, but her father did not. 

"Daddy, what's wrong? Where's Risho-sama?" She asked, surprised.

"Risho-san had to leave, sweetie. He said that……. he had other important business to attend to." Replied her mother. She felt guilty every time that she lied to Misao. 'It can't be helped,' she admonished herself silently, 'She is still way too young to know the truth about our past. Just as long as she still believes that her father is just a simple farmer, she can retain her purity of heart and mind.'

"It's getting late. Time for bed! I'll take care of the fire tonight." Said her father, in an attempt to quell any further questions Misao might have had. 

"O-okay daddy. Goodnight! I love you!" 

"Goodnight, precious. I love you too." 

"Goodnight both of you. You know I love you very much." With the last of the goodnights stated, Sakura led Misao into her room for bed. Once she was tucked in, she went into the room she shared with her husband. There, they changed into their night clothing, exchanged a kiss, and fell asleep.

Aoshi stood for a moment to stretch his muscles once he was sure that the giant leaning against the tree was sound asleep. He had been waiting in these bushes for hours, along with a few other members of the Oniwaban Group, in order to carry out their orders. Okina had said that Risho would lead them to the home of a very dangerous man: one who would be able to turn the tides of battle against them, a man who was almost the equal of the Battosai. Once found, he would have to be exterminated. Okina's information was never wrong, and so here they were, ready to attack.

Although only thirteen, Aoshi was already a high ranking member of the Oniwaban; not to mention that, at 5'6'', he towered above everyone else his age. He had short, black hair that hung onto his forhead and a lean, yet srong, body. His eyes were his most striking feature, however. They were a warrior's eyes: hardened yet saddened by countless battles and countless murders. Icy blue in color, they were capable of inducing terror with just one death-glare. 

The light coming from the fireplace was suddenly extinguished inside, leaving the entire house to be engulfed in darkness. The only light in the clearing now radiated from the moon and stars. It was time.

"Light the torches, then move out!" ordered Aoshi. The rest of the group nodded, then got to work.

Misao turned in her sleep, troubled by the events of the day. Why would Risho-sama leave at this time of night? No one traveled at night unless they were running away from something. What had made her daddy so sad, while her mother seemed so happy? And why, come to think of it, had everyone seemed so strange when she intruded upon someone's conversation? Did they think she was being rude? She made a mental note to apologize in the morning. She didn't want her mommy and daddy to be mad at her. 

Once she had tossed and turned a few more times, sleep claimed her. 

"Misao! Misao! Where are you?!" Someone yelled. Misao awoke from her slumber to a startling situation: smoke was everywhere and flames were beginning to eat at the walls. She tried to scream, but couldn't. Smoke sucked into her throat as she inhaled, making it nearly impossible to breathe. Her lungs heaved, trying to pull in air, but with every breath more smoke pulled in instead, coating itself to her air passageway. In an effort to filter out the air, she pulled her shirt up over her mouth and tumbled out of her plush bed onto the hard wooden floor. 

"Mo……mo…..my…..da……dy." She exhaled, growing desperate. She looked up at the frame of her door, and with another jolt of horror realized that it was about to collapse. Without thinking, she ran with all of her strength, only narrowly missing being hit by the wall of flames. "Moh…….moh…….." she gasped again, searching desperately for one of her parents. 

"Misao! Over here, Misao!" Shrieked her mother from across the room. 

Misao tried to run, but her legs wouldn't move. She sat there, petrified, trying desperately to force her body to go, but she just couldn't. Tears ran down her soot covered face, falling onto her lap like drops of mud. 

"I……..soh……ry……moh…….my…….I……cah…..n't………..moh…..ve." Cried Misao. Suddenly, out of the flames, shot her father. He yanked her from the ground and threw her over his shoulder, then darted around the chunks of burning wood to the place where Sakura stood, trembling. 

"We can't get out the front entrance, there are men with swords guarding it. We've got to use the window in our room. Hurry!" Shouted her father. With that he grabbed Sakura and threw her over his free shoulder, then made a mad dash to their room. Misao had never before seen him exhibit such speed: it was like lightning. 

He stopped next to the window and put his wife down, grabbed Misao from his shoulder, then pushed her out of the window. He was about to do the same for Sakura when the ceiling started to catch fire. 

"Run Misao!" shrieked her mother.

"No! I won't leave you!" Misao shrieked back. She tried to crawl back inside the window, but could not, for another pair of arms lifted her from the ground and away from the burning building. 

"Let go of me! Let go! Mommy! Daddy!" shrieked the struggling child. But it was already too late. Misao could only watch as the wall collapsed on top of her parents, killing them both.


	4. Changes

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Chapter Four: Changes

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I know that last chapter was really sad, but trust me, it will definitly get more lighthearted as I progress. Erm, well, not "lighthearted" exactly, but at least not as dismal. This chapter is (finally) the continuation of chapter one, so you might want to go back and read it again. Yes, I know, there is a missing chunk of the story, but all will be revealed in time. Well, I can't remember the names of the Oniwaban members living with Misao in the anime, so I made up new characters instead. Thank you again for all of the reviews! They really inspire me to continue!

"Our information was obviously wrong. The second shift wasn't supposed to arrive for another thirty minutes! If we leave now, we should be safe, though. Let's go through the back alleyway." Stated the commanding voice. 

Misao suspected that they would go around the other side of the building like this "Beshimi" person, and was horrified when they did not. She tried to run, but before she even had the chance to move Aoshi and Hannya rounded the corner.

In the next few moments, several things happened in rapid succession. The two Oniwabanshu were running at top speed for their getaway, but stopped short at the sight of the petrified child. Aoshi's mind automatically registered her as a threat, for one of the most important teachings of the Oniwaban was "leave no witnesses." Without really stopping to think about it, he grabbed Misao around the waist and bolted off into the night, along with his two companions.

The night air was cold and damp from the recent drizzle. Misao did her best to struggle out of Aoshi's grip, but he was much too strong. Now she hung limp at his side and waited for him to stop running. The uncomfortable journey seemed to go on forever and ever; she had no idea when it would end, only that she hoped it would be soon. 

Her first instinct was to be frightened, but there was something about the warmth radiating from his body that made her feel like she could trust him. The way he carried her: it was almost as though he was protecting her. 'Protecting you from what? He's the one you have to worry about.' Her concience scolded; and yet, there was another part of her, a part that wanted nothing more than to snuggle in closer.

Aoshi looked down at the girl pressed to his side. There was something……._familiar _…..about her. Had he seen her somewhere before? His brows furrowed as he concentrated on the back of her head. After thinking about it for some time, he gave up. Nothing came to him. 

The buildings of Kyoto flew by, one after another, fading into a blur of moonlit concrete. Misao grew tired, the rythem of Aoshi's steps lulling her into sleep. The tall ninja felt a slight tug as the small girl at his side went completely limp, drifting into a light slumber.

Aoshi walked solomnly into the Aoiya, defeat etched on his face. He had failed in a mission once before: at the end of his punishment he hung only inches away from death. Squinting, he crossed over to a young woman with short black hair standing next to the doorway that lead into the kitchen.

"Aoshi-sama, who is that?" Asked Yukaria, a fellow member of the Oniwaban.

"A witness. Killing her would have been messy, so I decided to bring her here for questioning." He replied stonily.

"I'll take care of her, but you'd best hurry along. Okina is waiting for your report."

"I know." He heaved a heavy sigh, then walked down the hallway to the stairs. He felt as though he was walking to his death. His footsteps echoed in his ears as he searched desperately for something to calm his fear, something that could save him, but did not find it. The walls were completely bare except for a painting on the right-hand side that stood out like a sore thumb against the pale white of the walls. Placing his hand on the smooth, wooden railing, he walked up the first three steps, turned, and began his final ascent.

'Final ascent, hmm Aoshi? Aren't you blowing this a little out of proportion?' Laughed a voice from within his mind. Until now, he wasn't aware that there was still a part of him able to laugh. He made a mental note to exterminate it if he lived through this. He grew ever more doubtful that he would with every step he took. 

Finally, with one last movement, he was at the top of the staircase. He took a deep breath, stood up straight, squared his shoulders, and walked forward down the hall. When he came to the last door to the right he turned and knocked. 

"Who is it?" Grumbled a voice from inside.

"Aoshi Shinamori, here to give you my report, Okina-sama." He said it as business-like as he could, but was positive that his elder would hear the fear in his voice.

"You may enter." Aoshi opened the door bowing, then walked toward his leader. Okina was seated on the floor atop a silk covered cushion with another cushion positioned across from him. He motioned for Aoshi to sit, but he did not, knowing that he would be on the floor bowing for forgiveness soon enough anyway.

"Do you have the documents?" Asked Okina, putting business first as always. 

Aoshi kneeled and bowed deeply, "No, Okina-sama. Our information was incorrect: the second shift arrived thirty minutes earlier than planned. I apologize for my failure." His voice dropped to a low whisper when he spoke the last line. A deadly, venom-coated silence fell over the two, broken only by the sound of Okina's breathing, for Aoshi had ceased after he finished speaking. 

"Aoshi, I'm very disappointed in you, you know that. The first time you failed, I had to teach you a lesson, a lesson that I can plainly see you haven't forgotten. You've gotten older, my boy. You're not a child anymore, so I won't treat you like one. I'm giving you a second chance, but not without punishment. You will take Hannya's place as martial arts instructor for the rest of the week. You are dismissed." Aoshi raised his head to meet Okina's eyes, and could swear that Okina _almost _smiled. 

"Wake up Yukaria, time for breakfast!" Announced a voice from outside. Yukaria didn't need the call: she had been up all night watching the child. She was so small and cute, it just made her want to pinch Misao's little cheeks, but she refrained for fear of waking her. In her heart, she didn't really want the little girl to wake up. Who knew where she was from, or for that matter, who she was at all? When she opened her eyes, she would have to come to grips with a lot of things that no one, especially not her age, should have to deal with. Returning to whatever life she had before wouldn't be an option, and she didn't think she could bear to see this child look at her with the sad eyes that she looked at Okina with all those years ago.

Her stomach gave a rumble of disapproval, wondering if she would ever get around to feeding it. She got up for a moment, but decided that she should be the one to explain things to the girl, having gone through this herself, so she sat down again. Her eyes had become fuzzy from both the lack of sleep and the constant staring, so she shook her head in an attempt to force them to work again. She blinked and looked up, regaining some focus.

The room they were in was pretty enough, but it was still very plain. The Oniwaban couldn't afford to waste their resources on petty things such as interior decorating. There were only two times of the day that the room really came to life: dawn and dusk. Light poked its way through the tiny window, bending slightly because of the glass. Yukaria smiled at the sight: a singular beam had strayed from the rest of its comrades to focus itself on Misao's sleeping form, causing her face to glow. 'She looks even more like an angel,' thought the sitting teenager.

Misao's eyes fluttered open, but then closed again immediately because of the blinding light. She turned her head toward the wall so that the sun wasn't aimed directly into her pupils and again opened. Where was she? Was she on a _bed_? A _real_ bed? She squirmed a bit, feeling the fabric to affirm that it was genuine. 'This isn't right….I'm not on the street. How did I get here? Hmmmmmmm……let's see……I remember being in the rain, about to go to bed, but then……oh yeah! That's right, that guy kidnapped me.' The thought of the tall, dark man made her heart pound, but not completely from fear. In a way, she almost _wanted_ to see him again. 'That's not very logical. He kidnapped you after all. Who knows what kinds of things he's going to do to you.' Came her conscience. 

Her thoughts were interrupted by a tiny voice, "Sweetie, are you awake?" Misao turned to look at its owner, and was shocked at what she saw. A very beautiful young woman was sitting on a chair near her bed, looking at her with deep, sad black eyes. She was wearing a very pretty dark blue kimono with a silver tiger pattern glittering on the right side and a golden phoenix pattern on the left, further accented by her deep purple obi. Her hair fell just short of her shoulders, framing her pale complexion in shiny, but dark, black. Two perfect arches resided above her eyes and two deep red lips were situated under her tiny nose. Misao couldn't bring herself to speak: she was too enthralled by the angel sitting in front of her.

"Sweetie, do you know where you are?"

"N-no." Misao finally managed to stutter.

"What do you remember about how you got here?"

"Well, I was sitting next to a building in the alley that I've been sleeping in, and I heard whispers above my head, and was going to see what was going on, but then a carriage came and a man on the roof jumped down and said that they had to run, and then two tall men dressed all in black came around the corner and grabbed me. I must have fallen asleep when they were running." Spouted Misao, trying her best to remember everything. The angel just nodded her head in response. 

"Little girl, what is your name?" 

"Misao. What's yours?" 

"Yukaria." Misao turned the name over and over in her head, thinking about how it was perfectly matched to the girl in front of her.

"Misao, is it? Well Misao, do you have any parents?" 

Misao tilted her head slightly at this. "Everyone has parents." She said, then furrowed her brows, a questioning look in her eyes.

Yukaria giggled and could no longer resist the urge to pinch Misao's cheeks. "I know that, but are yours alive?"

Misao lowered her head and then shook it to indicate that they were not. 

"Do you have any other surviving relatives?" 

The little girl looked up, and Yukaria noticed a hopeful glimmer in her eyes and an expression of determination on her face. "Yes, there is one other person in my family, my mother's father. I never met him, but my mommy told me he lived in Kyoto, so I came here to look for him since my parents died." She paused, as if trying to make an important decision, and a few moments later nodded her head decisively. "Excuse me, Yukaria-sama, but do you suppose _you_ could help me look for him?"

Yukaria's eyes widened in surprise, both at hearing someone add a "–sama" to her name and also at the girl's request.

"Perhaps, in time, Misao, but first I have so explain something to you, something that will be very difficult for you. Are you prepared?"

Misao tried and tried, but for all she was worth she just couldn't imagine the angel making something difficult for her. "I'm ready," she said after a few moments.

"Misao, it's very unfortunate, but when you were in that alleyway last night you witnessed a crime. Those men on the roof are part of a group called the Oniwaban, a group of spies and ninjas dedicated to the shogunate. Even though it wasn't your fault, the fact remains that you are a witness, one who could turn them in at any time. Aoshi, the man who kidnapped you, made the decision to bring you here instead of killing you. We of the Oniwaban call this place the Aoiya. You have a decision to make, Misao: Stay here for the rest of your life and become a member of the Oniwaban, or be killed. Think about it carefully. I'm going to go eat breakfast now, and I'll bring you a plate when I'm finished. Stay here until I return."

The little girl watched the angel leave, shocked into silence.

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Author's note: I really am not good at spelling names, so could some of my reviewers PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE tell me how to spell the names of the four Oniwaban members with Aoshi that were killed? THANKS A BUNCH!


	5. Introductions

Chapter Five: Introductions

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First of all, I would like to send a big "THANK YOU" out to Shin-no-Shibo, Dragowolf, and Rurouni Gochan for the spellings of the names and the coordination with the faces, I really appreciate it. I also want to thank Rurouni Gochan for clearing up the whole Saito(h) thing (If you read through the reviews you'll know what I'm talking about). Well, unfortunatly I couldn't meet my goal of finishing before the 20th. School has started and I won't be able to update as often as I have been (which hasn't been very often- sorry.)I realize that Okina wasn't the leader of the Oniwaban in the anime, but in this story he is. I hope you all like this chapter! It was difficult to write, but I worked long and hard just for you guys. (I don't know what a common breakfast food is in Japan, so I just Americanized it. Heh heh- I'm so lazy, it's really sad. ^_^;;;;)

The sun continued to rise, spreading its warm glow to each of the nooks and crannies in the room. The minutes kept going by and Misao desperately wished that she could just stop them. She didn't want to have to think about this, but at the same time knew that she had to. 

Yukaria had said that the Oniwaban were dedicated to the shogunate, the side her parents always told her was bad. They had said that they oppressed the people, making their lives miserable. "If I join up with the Oniwaban, I'll be a traitor. Mommy and Daddy wouldn't want me to be on that side of the war, but if I don't I'll die, and Mommy and Daddy wouldn't want me to die either. They gave up their lives just to save me, and even though it would be nice to be with them in heaven, I don't think it's my time to go yet. I still have lots of stuff to do: find grandpa, grow up, fall in love, get married….." As she spoke, a vision of the man Yukaria had called "Aoshi" floated into her head. 'Why don't you just forget about him? He's dangerous, not to mention a lot older than you.' 

"Darn conscience." She said aloud. Although it went against her heart, she did have to consider all of the things her common sense was telling her. 'But, what if he isn't dangerous? He could be younger than he looked. I think…..I think I need to meet him face to face.'

Just then, Yukaria opened the door of the little room. Misao was sitting on the bed with a glazed look in her lovely blue eyes, a look that could only mean one thing: she was thinking about someone she loved. 

"I brought you something to eat, just like I promised." Yukaria walked over to Misao with a steaming plate of french toast with syrup dripping over the edges and a nice, cool glass of orange juice. "Have you made a decision yet?"

"Yes. I want to live here. It doesn't seem so terrible, I guess."

"You guess? Gee, thanks."

"W-w-well, it's just r-r-realy plain, that's all. How many other people live here?" Stuttered Misao, caught completely off guard.

"Hmmmm, let's see. There's me, Aoshi-sama, Okina-sama, Hannya, Shikijo, Hyottoko, Beshimi," she paused for a moment and shuddered as the image of Beshimi came into her mind. Of all of the members of the Oniwaban, he was easily her least favorite, "Okon, Omasu, Shiro, and Kuro." Misao's eyes grew larger with each name mentioned, the look of surprise growing more and more pronounced. 

"Wow! That's a lot of people!" Yukaria simply giggled in response. "So, what is life here like? I mean, what am going to have to do to be an Oniwaban member?"

"It's going to be really hard for you, Misao, but you're young yet, so it should be easier than it would have been if you came here later in life. Every member of the Oniwaban has to know how to incapacitate others and defend oneself, so that means you're going to have to train in martial arts. It's really difficult, but there are many here who are good teachers. Hannya would usually be the one to do it, but as punishment for botching the mission last night Aoshi-sama will be in charge this week." A sparkle of amusement came into her eyes as she envisioned Aoshi being attacked by all of the younger members of the Oniwaban. 

"Aoshi-sama? Isn't he the one who brought me here? I'd really like to see him again to……ummm……thank him. How old is he?"

"Thirteen going on fourteen. Why do you ask?"

"Just wondering." She replied, a ridiculous grin on her face.

"I see." Yukaria raised an eyebrow, knowing perfectly well what was going on inside Misao's head. "How does that boy do it? You haven't even met him yet and already you're hooked. Wow, I don't believe I've _ever _seen someone blush like that before. Sorry for embarrassing you." Misao glared at her, knowing that she wasn't sorry at all. 

"Misao, you really should start eating. It will get cold soon."

"Ooooops, sorry. I forgot all about it!" She looked down at the blue plate full of food. French toast was a definite favorite, but the syrup usually didn't mix very well with the orange juice. Picking up her chopsticks, she tore off a small piece and raised it to her lips, breathing in the heat radiating from her meal. She slid the morsel into her mouth and chewed once or twice, savoring the sweetness and warmth.

"So, what am I going to do today?" She asked between bites.

"After you're done eating, I'll take you upstairs to introduce you to our leader. Once that's done, you'll get to meet the rest of the Oniwaban; if they're still here, that is. You can do whatever you want between then and your martial arts lesson, which will begin after lunch. Oh, I almost forgot: you must never, under any circumstances, enter the rooms of Okina-sama without permission. I can not even begin to express the importance of that statement. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Yukaria…….-sama." This girl seemed so much like a best friend already, she had almost forgotten.

"Just call me Yukaria, Misao."

"Are you sure?"

"Positive. Are you ready to go?"

"Yes, that was delicious!" 

"I'm glad you think so. I'm the one who does the cooking around here, since I'm really not good at fighting."

"Well, you're _really_ good at this. Could you teach me so that I can be a good wife someday?"

"Of course, it would be my pleasure."

Yukaria led Misao down the hallway and up the stairs to Okina's room and knocked upon reaching it.

"State your name and business." 

"Okina-sama, this is Yukaria. I brought the new girl here to meet you. May we come in?" Now that she was speaking with her leader, Yukaria was totally different, almost scary. Her voice lost its friendly tune for favor of a cold ritualistic one. It was that, more than anything else, that caused Misao to begin to fear this unknown entity that was her new leader.

"Yes, you have my permission to enter." Yukaria did so, bowing in much the same manor as Aoshi did the night before. Misao trailed slightly behind, following the older girl's example. 

The room was filled with earthereal light streaming through the windows. Upon entering the room, Misao felt as though she had walked into a dream. Sweet smelling insense permeated throughout the chamber, making her feel calm and relaxed. Even though there was so much light, it was still slightly hazy from the flames. Because of this, the edges of her vision faded into a smoky blur, and it was hard for her to focus. Unlike the other rooms, this one was heavily decorated: the walls were entirely blue except for a black ornamental border around the top. The only three pieces of furniture, a writing desk, a chair, and a wardrobe, were painted in gold, red and black. A small statue of Buddha rested in the far left-hand corner near the writing desk and chair, creating an interesting finishing touch. The part of the room she noticed the most, however, was the serious-looking old man sitting in the middle of it.

"Okina-sama, this young lady is named Misao. Neither of her parents are alive, but she says she has a grandfather that she's never met. He would be her only other remaining relative. She says also that before arriving she has never heard of the Oniwaban, but she agrees to become a member. In doing so, she realizes that she will be forced to learn the way of the ninja, and also the art of spying."

"Very good, Yukaria. You may leave." Yukaria turned to do so and Misao followed, but that was apparently the wrong move. "Girl, I did not dismiss you." The words cut into her heart like icicles and her eyes became misty; she didn't like being scolded by this man.

"Please forgive me, Okina-sama." The girl bowed until she couldn't go any lower without falling over.

"You are forgiven, for now anyway. You must always remember your manners, Misao-chan. Without them you will go nowhere, or at least nowhere that you would want to be." Misao nodded solomnly. "Misao, you are dismissed." The little girl scuttled out of the room, tail between legs, to catch up with Yukaria. The two descended the staircase in silence. They now shared the mutual understanding that Okina was not one to be crossed.

Once they were out of earshot, Yukaria spoke again, "Well Misao, don't let Okina-sama get you down too much. I think he likes you more than he lets on. You see, the truth of the matter is that he lost his daughter a long time ago, and since then he's been very lonely."

"Oh, that's sad. How did she die?"

"She didn't. She ran away from home to be married to a samurai from the Imperialist Army."

"I see. I guess now I can sort of understand why he's so bitter. Do you think I could cheer him up?"

"I'm sure you could Misao. One of the best ways to cheer him up would be to become a powerful warrior and an excellent spy, both of which I know you'll accomplish. Don't you think so, Misao?"

"I suppose." 

"You will, but only if you have faith in yourself."

"O.K, in that case, I will!"

"That's the spirit." She reached down and patted Misao's head. "Well, shall we see if we can find the rest of the Oniwaban?"

"Yeah! I'm really looking forward to meeting them."

"The same goes for them, I'm sure." They walked around for a bit chattering idly to each other about trivial details of life in the Aoiya, now and then meeting a member to introduce. Misao thought that they all seemed like nice people and looked forward to getting to know them a bit better. The rest of the morning found Misao waiting apprehensively in her room for lunch.

'What will I say when I finally do see that man again? I guess I should say "thank you" or something like that. I mean, really, he did save my life and all. Now I don't have to live on the street, so that's always a plus. I finally have food and water whenever I need it. I guess I really got lucky. But, if I'm so lucky, why do I feel so badly about this? I guess it's sort of like I can't get over that whole being a traitor thing. Oh, well. I'll deal with it in time.' Lunch came and went, Misao barely eating a thing. Once everyone else was finished, she shuffled into the central courtyard along with the other children to begin the lesson she had been waiting for.


	6. Confrontations

Chapter Six: Confrontations

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Well, as far as I know Misao WAS the only child, but I put in more to make the story flow. I began with the intention of following the anime to the letter in order for this to be my own twist on something that was never actually mentioned, but it didn't turn out that way, and you peeps don't seem to mind, so I guess that's O.K. Again, I would like to thank you all for the nice reviews! You guys are the best! 

P.S. If you want to check out another story/ CG art by me, go to www.bakaneko.com and click on the MOC contest link at the top right-hand corner of the screen. From there click on the "contest" link, then click on "August 2003". My artist name is Chibi Dragon. Depending on how late you're reading this, it may be in the "archives" (along with the July 2003 entry) section. There are lots of neat authors / artists, so I recommend scoping it if you have any free time! 

P.S.S. For my excuses for not posting this sooner, see my A/N at the bottom.

She took one step after another, one breath at a time, and each moment as it came, every one pulling her farther and farther away from the safe haven of her bedroom and nearer and nearer to the uncertain future beyond. There were other children with her, so she wasn't totally alone, but she was the only newcomer and thus an outcast nonetheless. Now, she only had herself and her dratted conscience; the thing had spoken to her nonstop for the last hour or two. If she were older, she may have concluded that she'd gone insane, but the youth in her concealed that idea from her thoughts and left her to simpler troubles, such as fitting in and meeting her savior. 

'Your savior? Look at where your "savior" brought you. You can't leave this place, you know.' 'I don't really _want_ to leave this place. I get what I need here, as well as luxuries that some don't have. I'm very fortunate that I was rescued from the street.' Her inner battle came to an abrupt halt as she walked into the sunny courtyard and came face to face, icy blue eyes to deep blue eyes, with the man who had plagued her thoughts ever since she awoke: Aoshi Shinomori. 

She stared helplessly at him, growing especially aware of her ever increasing heartbeat. Her entire body seemed to throb with amoration as she looked at him, the ice in his eyes doing nothing to cool her burning cheeks. There he was, standing tall and proud, and of all things to look at, he was looking at _her_. All of her previous uncertainty vanished into the moment and she knew, somehow, that he would listen to her if she spoke; comfort her if she cried; laugh with her if she laughed. 

These things passed through her head, from there going directly into her heart, causing it to swell with joy. Confidence surged through her body, and she, at last able to move, began to march toward the circle to sit down.

"Hmph. It seems we have a new student. Name?" Aoshi's voice came to her ears, the coldness and distaste evident even to her, and she felt warm tears began to form in her eyes. This wasn't the way it was supposed to be. Where was the kindness in his voice? Mentally, she hit herself over the head for completely forgetting his tone the previous night: that cold, heartless tone that made it seem like he had no emotions, or no pleasant emotions, anyway. 'He didn't save you because he thought you were special, he did it because he wasn't thinking' taunted her conscience in a self-satisfied way. 

"Name?" He repeated, slipping in some annoyance along with the coldness and distaste.

"M-misao." She stuttered, growing embarrased at herself for being so inarticulate.

"Well, Misao, what are you waiting for? Sit." She obeyed swiftly and silently, just like Hannya and Beshimi had the previous night; or, for that matter, the way anyone did when the order came from Aoshi. However, one thought sprang immediately into her head: the way he said it reminded her of the way someone would address their dog. 

'Like a lower being. That's all I am to him.' Even as she thought it, the words had yet to sink in. She didn't want to believe it, so she didn't. All of her feelings seemed to be drained, the good ones replaced with a void and the bad ones deeply suppressed almost to the point of being completely absent. 'Absent……of……..emotion.' Three words she had used not long before to describe her would-be-lover. 'If I am absent of emotion, maybe he'll like me. No, that's too rediculous. Isn't it? I don't know…..'

"Misao, are you paying attention? Repeat back to me what I just said."

"Sit." She knew he must have said something after that, but at least it was an answer. Judging by his face, it definitly was the wrong one. His glare cut into her much more deeply than the old man's scorn, much more deeply even than a reprimand from her mother or father, and oh, how she hated it. The tears came again, this time unrestrained, for now the void was gone and all of the terrible emotions came swiftly and surely to take its place. She looked around at the faces of her peers in an effort to avoid his gaze, and noticed something strange. They were neither angry at her for disrupting the lesson nor amused at seeing her be yelled at; no, the emotion there was deep empathy. It took a moment to register, but when it did she knew, without being told, that lessons here were taught and sealed with pain, the sort of lessons that one doesn't easily forget.

"I heard you got a pretty harsh punishment, but I didn't think it would be this terrible. What did you do that got him so mad?" Yukaria's voice was now coated in tenderness, and she patiently doctored the deep lashes in the young girl's back.

"He asked me to repeat what he said back to him, and I couldn't." She replied through her sobs. This was officially the second-to-worst day in her life.

"Why not?" She didn't sound as though she, to, had turned against Misao, but more like she was curious and a bit concerned.

"I was thinking about……other things."

"Oh. I see." She left it at that. Pressing the child for information would just make the situation worse, if that were possible. The blood had been mostly cleaned up, so she began to wrap the bandages. Misao hadn't stopped crying, and most likely wouldn't for some time yet, but the tears seemed less profuse now that the cream Yukaria had mixed and applied to the wounds began to take effect. 

'What were you _thinking_ Aoshi? She's only four years old and her skin is so frail and delicate…..it seems like it should be a crime to treat her like this…..she's such a sweetheart.' Her thoughts became angrier from there, fury for Aoshi growing steadily. She made a mental note to give him a rather large piece of her mind later. He might be in line to be the next leader, but it gave him no right, no right at all.

"I'm done with the bandages Misao. Do you want me to stay with you?" Her answer came in the form of the child lunging at her and beginning to cry into her chest. Yukaria wrapped her arms around her, whispering things like "It'll be alright, Misao…." "You don't have to go back until Hannya takes over again….." and "Aoshi is like that to everyone. It isn't that he hates you, it's just that that's the way he is. He'll treat you with more kindness once he gets to know you. You're a really sweet girl." 

They sat like that for what seemed like forever, Yukaria's kimono becoming saturated with Misao's salty tears. Finally, Misao drew away and wiped her eyes, saying that she needed some sleep. 

"Yes, sleep will be good for you. Sweet dreams, Misao. I'll see you in the morning."

"Sweet dreams, Yukaria." The teenager began to walk to the door, but she was stopped by a softly spoken request from behind her. "Yukaria, now that I don't have a mommy or a daddy, and since I can't look for grandpa anymore, will you be my sister?"

She was taken completely by surprise. Tears began to swell in her eyes as well, and a smile came to her lips. "Yes Misao, if you'll be mine." The small girl beamed for the first time in what seemed like ages. That expression was much more suited to her face than the one contorted in grief that she had shown moments before. 

"Then everything's going to be o.k." Even as these words played across her lips their truth was accepted in both of their minds as absolute. Everything _would _be o.k.

The night passed by slowly, visions and dreams floating by in Misao's mind. None of it made any sense, but her dreams seldom did, so that wasn't unusual. There was something else, though, that seemed conspicuously out of place in the young girl's heart, something that she'd never before experienced, that being a deep desire for revenge. Revenge? That just wasn't like her. Before, she had always blamed herself for anything that went wrong in her life, even if she weren't at fault. This time, though, she couldn't find any possible way around it: Aoshi had hurt her and she wanted revenge. She wanted it so badly, even worse that she had wanted to impress Aoshi in the first place, perhaps even worse than she wanted to find her grandfather. The desire for it seemed to encompass her whole being, every fibre inside of her bent toward it: he had to pay. 

But how? How would she make him suffer as she had suffered? She couldn't inflict physical pain, he was much too strong and skilled to be injured by a little girl. She doubted that she could hurt his feelings, for he seemed to have none that were joyful or positive in the first place. What did he value? What was important to him? If she could destroy something he loved, then she would feel much better. 

'When you have your revenge, what will that accomplish? He hurt you. You can never change that. Will you really feel better if you hurt him as well? Even if you do, how long will that last?' Her conscience was back to playing its old role again. The satisfaction it got from being right the last time must have finally worn thin.

'It _will_ make me feel better. I want him to know what its like to know pain.'

'This isn't like you. You're still really upset. Why don't you wait until you're a bit more calm and then see how you feel.' This last statement was painful, but she knew it would be for the best. Her inner self was correct last time, why not trust it again? She went back to sleep. Now that the decision was made, her rest was much more peaceful than it had been. 

"How are you feeling this morning, Misao?" The child stirred from somewhere deep in the depths of her blankets and sheets, then poked her head out from under the covers. The skin around her eyes was still red and raw from yesterday's tears and the orbs themselves had turned approximately the same color, revealing her lack of sleep. Her hair was tangled and some of the strands still clung to her face. She made a half-hearted effort to wipe them away, but it made little difference in mending her disheveled appearance.

"Huh?" She was still too sleepy to readily comprehend human speech.

"I said 'how are you feeling this morning, Misao?'" 

"Oh. I'm better than I was last night. Mainly I'm hungry. Is breakfast ready?" Her words were slurred together and Yukaria could bearly understand them.

"Yes. Get dressed and meet me in the dining room. Hurry up before it's gone! We have a lot of people with big appetites here, and most of them have already raided the kitchen."

Soon after Yukaria left, Misao closed her eyes and fell back asleep. It wasn't intentional, but she did desperately need more rest, so her body responded to this without consent of her mind. The older girl soon became worried, but when she saw what had happened she let it be. Misao had had a rough day, she deserved some extra sleep. She decided that now would be the perfect time to have that little "chat" with Aoshi.

"Shinomori! Open up! You can't hide in that room forever!" Yukaria's 'knocking' reverberated thoughout the building, her yells right alongside it. The rest of the Oniwaban, Misao and Okina excluded, came to see what was going on, and by the time Aoshi did open the door he was greeted by what closely resembled a mob. Everyone knew what was going on; keeping a secret would have been hard enough in such close quarters, let alone close quarters made up of spies.

"Coward! How _could_ you? You _jerk_!" She yelled, further punctuating each of the emphasized words with a hard smack of her rolling pin. "What in the _world_ made you think that was _appropriate_? Huh? _Answer _me, Shinomori!"

"What makes you think the way I chose to handle the situation wasn't appropriate?" He didn't even bother blocking the blows. They felt like the soft kicking of a baby's feet against his well-toned chest.

"Isn't it _obvious_? She's new here! She didn't know what would happen!" The rest of the 'mob' agreed with her, but decided not to interject statements of reproach for fear of causing Yukaria to turn on them. You never knew how she would react when she was like this.

"Now she does. End of story."

"_End of story_?! _End of story_?! I'm just getting warmed up here you unfeeling _pig_!"

"That's the way each of us learned to mind our manners. Why should she be any different?" Yukaria stopped yelling for favor of glaring at the boy who towered over her. She was older than him, he should listen to her. Instead of conceding her point, however, Aoshi gave her a glare of his own. It seemed they were evenly matched for a while, but even Aoshi couldn't stand up to a furious Yukaria. He agreed to give Misao an apology, but in return Yukaria had to stay away from him for the rest of the week. That being settled, she went into the kitchen to fix lunch, the rest of the Oniwaban returning to their previous activities.

"Misao! Misao-chan, wake up honey. Lunch is ready!" The child stirred for the second time that morning; this time was no more graceful than the last.

"E-excuse me, but what's your name again?"

"Okon. Goodness! You haven't even gotten dressed yet! Tsk tsk. Oh, well, no one will really mind. Come on!"

"But-"

"Walk and talk hun, walk and talk. No time to waste! There's lunch to be had!" She rolled over out of bed, stumbled to her feet, and did her best to keep up with Okon, but this was a definite chore. Her training in martial arts had done much for her speed, not to mention that her legs alone were the length of Misao's entire body.

"Wait! Okon, slow down!"

"Sorry sweetie, but if I don't hurry the boys will have everything eaten by the time we get there!" In a matter of moments they reached the kitchen, but they were not the first ones. The fact that one other person, the one called Kuro, was already seated in the dining area with a plate full of food seemed to make Okon exceptionally angry.

"I can't believe it! Beaten to lunch by a _boy_! What's the world coming to?" She continued to grumble a few other things under her breath, including some unprintables, but even in doing so wasted no time getting a heaping pile for herself. Misao followed her example, but only got about one-tenth of what the taller girl grabbed. They both went to sit down, Okon making a point of choosing the table farthest from Kuro. Kuro didn't seem to mind: he was too busy stuffing his face to really notice that he was no longer alone. 

"Well, how do you like the Aoiya? Other than what happened yesterday, I mean." Misao was astonished that Okon was still able to speak so clearly while practically inhaling her meal.

"I think it'll be o.k. living here. Yukaria says that when Hannya comes back I'll start lessons again. Once I get really strong I can go on missions too! Life is kinda boring right now, but I'm sure everything will be more fun when I learn martial arts."

"Fun isn't the word I would use. Going on missions is really dangerous. If anyone from the new government catches you, you could get thrown into prison or even killed. Don't take it lightly, Misao. This is serious." Misao got the impression that Okon would have had a very admonishing tone if she weren't eating, but as it was she could only make out the words. 

"I'm sorry, Okon. I'll be more serious from now on."

"That's good. Hey! Omasu! Over here!" In order to raise her voice to a yell, she did finally have to put her plate back onto the table. Misao wanted to laugh, but decided that would be rude, so she sat there silently stifling her giggle. The one named Omasu went through the line snatching a few morsels here and there, but not nearly as much as Okon or Kuro, then walked over to their table. 

"Hi! How are you, Misao-chan?" Her smile was tiny but yet conveyed a very deep and quiet friendliness. She seemed like the type that would do almost anything to please other people.

"I'm a lot better than I was yesterday. How are you, Omasu?"

"Very well, thank you." She replied, then delicately seated herself. Okon and this girl were like two opposite ends of the spectrum: at one end, there was Omasu, the gentle and delicate type; at the other end, Omasu, the loud and sturdy one. They seemed like a perfect pair. 

Lunch time seemed to crawl by, the rays of the sun lazily pouring themselves into pools, reflecting back onto the white walls after coming into contact with the perfectly polished wood of the floor. At some of the tables, the Oniwaban discussed important political matters, at some they discussed future missions, but at the table of the three young women they discussed those sitting around them. Misao was ready and willing to listen to the endless stories and gossip about her new "family," laughing at most of them. 

"Oh, then one time, when Aoshi was only three, I told him that if he jumped off of the roof and flapped his arms he would be able to fly, and he actually believed me! It took him a whole month to recover from that one!" That was Misao's personal favorite. It just seemed like something Okon would do.

"Hey, Okon, do you remember the time that Kuro ate all of that sweet bread and then had to run two miles as part of his training? That was really gross. I guess he hasn't learned his lesson yet, though." All three of them turned to Kuro and started laughing histerically.

"Wow, I don't remember the last time I've laughed so much, do you, Omasu?"

"No. It seems like there's hardly anything to laugh about anymore."

"I'm really glad I live here now. I think I'm going to like it a lot."

"That's great, Misao! We all hoped you'd feel that way!" Misao beamed. Except for the tragic event of yesterday, this didn't seem like such a bad place. She walked back to her room after they were done chatting, deciding to sew herself some decent clothing in order to fit in with everyone else.

She had been tediously working for about an hour when the thoughts of Aoshi started to return. Did she really want revenge, after all? He surely was only trying to be a good instructor, wasn't he? No. That couldn't be right. He didn't really care about teaching anyone, especially her, about much of anything. 

So, back to the previous question: how would she do it? What did he care about more than anything else? Which one of the people she had met so far did he seem to really look up to? He didn't seem so like Yukaria, or her, or either of the girls, so who? Who did he respect? Then it hit her. The only one who seemed to really matter to him was his leader….Okina. It was so obvious! Why didn't she think of it before? 

Now that she knew who to strike, how would she do it? Maybe instead of striking at Okina, she would ruin Aoshi's reputation in Okina's eyes. That would be _perfect._ She would show him how it was to be rejected by someone whom he looked up to…..she would show him………

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I know what you're thinking "No! Not another dreadfully long author's note!" and, quite frankly, I don't blame you. Well, this time I'll list my excuses for not posting this sooner

I tried out for the school play "Meet Me In Saint Louis" tonight. I'll know what part I got tomorrow (I only know I got one because I asked the teacher to let me work backstage if I didn't make it in, and she said that I would get a part, she just didn't know where.) I'm in key club, spanish club, art club, band, the play, science club, math club, piano, student R.U.S.H. (a Christian youth group) on Wednesdays, student venture (another Christan youth group) on Sundays, not to mention that I have to keep up a really good GPA (I received a 4.0 all four quarters last year) and go to church on Sunday mornings. I have this weird feeling that I'm forgetting something……… I'm extremely sleep deprived I HATE CARTOON NETWORK! They play Inuyasha only on nights that I can't watch it, they cancelled Yu-Yu Hakusho, and they moved Rurouni Kenshin to a once a week showing on Saturdays. At least they still play .Hack//Sign. Well, that really isn't a reason, except that not having my daily shows to look forward to dampens my creative spirit. I know where I want it to end, but not how to get it there. GRRRRRRRRRRRR 

So, ummmm, yeah. I hope you can forgive me! Be sure to tell me if I'm getting OOC, A/U (whatever that means), or if Yukaria is growing into a mary-sue. I will go back and change it! I take your opinions to heart, really! -Chibi Phoenix


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